


Plus One

by DizzyRedhead



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6279700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Snart asks Cisco to help him gather information for Barry, Cisco isn't quite sure what to expect, or what he wants to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is all my sister's fault. "I need you to watch The Flash," she said. "None of my friends watch it and I need someone to understand about these ships."
> 
> And then I started watching, and then she dragged me into her rarepair ships, and then she gave me fic, and then she started talking about her favorite tropes, and then I said that fake/pretend relationship was my favorite, and then the plotbunnies ate my brain, and completely dragged me away from the other stuff I should've been writing (if you're reading this, and you're waiting for an update on What's Not To Love?, I am so so so sorry)
> 
> So this is all her fault, and for her sins, she had to beta it. That'll teach her.

“You need me to  _ what? _ ” Cisco winced inwardly when he heard his voice crack on the last word, but he was too busy hoping he’d misheard to worry too much about that, or about the ever-present smirk on Snart’s face. He looked back down at his computer screen so he wouldn’t have to look at the smirk any longer, or at the rest of Snart where he was leaning casually on the railing around the desk, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m supposed to bring a plus one to an event,” Snart said, almost patiently. “I need you to come with me.”

Cisco shook his head, but it didn’t seem to clear whatever was blocking his ears. “Wh--why don’t you bring your sister?”

The other man snorted. “This is a classy event, and I need to slip under the radar. I’m sure that you’re aware of Lisa’s...impulse control issues. I can’t guarantee she won’t blow the whole thing.”

“And I won’t?” Cisco rolled his eyes, gesturing to today’s t-shirt (“Engineers do it with precision”) and the jeans that he was pretty sure he’d only been wearing for five days (ripped in at least three places, spattered with oil, and smeared with what Cisco really hoped was grease from yesterday’s burrito). 

Snart looked him up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on the rips in his jeans, and Cisco found himself struggling not to blush. “You might,” he finally allowed, one corner of his mouth curled up even further in that incredibly annoying smirk as he dropped his eyes back to Cisco’s t-shirt. “But I think I’ll take my chances.”

Cisco sighed. “Am I going to be, like, aiding and abetting some criminal scheme? Because I’m not down for that. I only aid and abet Barry.”

“I’m well aware of your,” Snart’s mouth twisted a little “standards, Cisco. You’ll be happy to know that our only purpose at this event will be to collect information for our speedy friend.”

“Oh. Good.” Cisco felt himself deflate a little. “I guess--”

“Excellent,” Snart said briskly. “The event is on Friday. I’ll have your suit delivered.”

Cisco rolled his eyes, because apparently Leonard Snart brought out the petulant child in him. “Because clearly I can’t dress myself. I own a suit.”

Snart lifted one eyebrow (of course he could lift one at a time. Probably practiced in the mirror for hours, when he wasn’t staring at his too-pretty face) and looked meaningfully at Cisco’s shirt. 

“Fuck you, I do,” Cisco said (So it was tweed, so what? Smart people wore tweed. The Doctor wore tweed. Tweed was cool.).

For some reason that only made the smirk on the other man’s face widen. “Nevertheless. Wear the one I chose for you.”

“Fine,” Cisco grumbled, and if the snap of command in Snart’s voice sent a little tingle down his spine, well, no one else would ever have to know. “Anything else?”

“There is one other thing,” Snart said, the elaborately casual tone of his voice setting off all kinds of alarm bells. “You’ll need to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“I--you--what?!?”

Snart shrugged. “The gallery is holding a fundraiser for Safe Haven, the homeless shelter for gay teens. The vast majority of those in attendance will be same-sex partners. It’ll be suspicious if we don’t look like a couple.””

Cisco shook his head. “Oh, no, Snart. Not a chance.”

“You already agreed,” Snart said, turning toward the door. “Better get used to calling me Leo. Unless you want to let Barry down.”

“Fine,” Cisco muttered. “But I’m not wearing a tie,” he called after Snart--Leo.

“Yes, you are,” the other man said, never pausing his steps.

* * *

“It’s gonna be fine,” Cisco muttered to himself as he watched a Youtube tutorial on how to tie a bow tie for the seventeenth time. The top button on his shirt felt like it was choking him, pressed up against his throat, and he kept pulling too hard and pulling the ends of the tie loose. He took a deep breath, turned to the mirror on the wall, and started again. “You can build things that no one ever dreamed of before, Cisco, you can tie a stupid bow tie.”

The knock on the door startled him, his finger slipped on the silk of the tie, and the ends pulled loose again. “Mother _ fucker _ ,” Cisco swore, ripping the tie loose and flinging it to the floor on his way to answer the door.

Snart was on the other side, because of course he was early, and Cisco felt his mouth go dry. The oversized parka was gone, as was the leather jacket and the black sweater that actually fit him (not that Cisco had noticed); they’d been replaced by an immaculate black tux that was clearly tailor-made for the body underneath it. The smooth fabric of the jacket hugged Snart’s wide shoulders and tapered inward to his narrower waist and hips, the slacks with their knife-sharp creases broke over perfectly polished black leather shoes, and Cisco was absolutely not spending this much time ogling Captain Cold. Nope, not happening.

“Having trouble?” Snart drawled, that one stupid eyebrow quirked upward as he took in Cisco’s tieless state.

Cisco shook out of his daze and stepped back to let Snart in. “I told you I wasn’t going to wear a tie,” he grumbled, retrieving the strip of black silk from the floor where it lay. “I never could do this right.”

“Let me,” Snart--no, Leo, said, plucking the tie out of Cisco’s fingers and guiding him over to the mirror again. He flipped Cisco’s collar up and draped the tie around Cisco’s neck again before moving closer, his chest pressed to Cisco’s back.

“W-what are you doing?” Cisco stammered as Leo reached over his shoulders.

“Tying your tie,” Leo said, crossing one end of the silk over the other. “I never learned how to do it on someone else.”

“Oh,” Cisco said inanely, watching Leo’s long, clever fingers tug and coax the tie into shape. He tried to focus on what he was seeing and not the way he felt...surrounded. The hard muscle of Leo’s chest pressed against his back, Leo’s arms draped over his shoulders, keeping him close. But the view in the mirror wasn’t much better; Leo (why was it so easy to think of him as Leo?) was taller, bigger, wrapped around him in a way that looked intimate, almost protective.

“You know,” Leo murmured, his breath brushing lightly over Cisco’s ear, “you should probably get used to me touching you, and vice versa, if we’re going to be convincing.”

Cisco swallowed, trying not to think about all the possible permutations of  _ touching _ . “Why Leo?” he asked, not just because he was trying to change the subject, but also because he’d been trying to figure it out for the past several days. “Lisa calls you Lenny.”

“Lisa calls me a lot of things,” Leo said dryly, tugging lightly on the bow under Cisco’s chin for several long moments, even though it looked perfect already. 

“Maybe I don’t want you calling me the name my sister calls me,” he said finally, his eyes on the tie. “Or maybe I just got tired of you calling me ‘Snart’ in that tone that makes it seem like you want to scrape me off of your shoe.”

“I d--” Cisco snapped his mouth shut when Leo caught his eye in the mirror, eyebrow lifted in silent skepticism. “Okay, maybe I do,” he admitted, dropping his eyes.

“I get it,” Leo said, dropping his hands and letting them rest lightly on Cisco’s hips, but not stepping away. “No reason you shouldn’t. I’m not a hero. I’m a thief and a criminal. I’m a killer.”

“Your dad deserved to be killed,” Cisco said, doing his best to ignore the warmth of Leo’s hands seeping through the fabric of his suit to touch his skin.

“On that we agree,” Leo said, his mouth curving in a real smile, small and secret, for the first time since Cisco had met him. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m a killer.”

“My hands aren’t exactly clean,” Cisco admitted, letting himself press back just slightly into the solid strength of Leo’s body as he gave voice to something he’d only let himself think about in the dark of night. “I helped Barry and Dr. Wells imprison metahumans down in the particle accelerator. No trial, no due process; just locked ‘em up and threw away the key. Some of them died.”

“I guess neither of us are perfect, huh?”

Cisco gave up trying to figure out if he was imagining the slight tightening of Leo’s fingers on his hips. “I guess not.”

* * *

“Do I even want to know where you got a limo?” Cisco asked under his breath as he followed Leo out of the limo and into the small receiving area in front of the gallery.

“I paid for it, of course,” Leo said, setting a proprietary hand low on Cisco’s back as they walked toward the door being held open for them by a uniformed staff member. “Just like I paid for your tux.”

“With your ill-gotten gains,” Cisco said, trying to pretend, even if just to himself, that he didn’t want to lean into the touch.

Leo snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Cisco, taking a sip from the other one. “Exactly,” he said, his voice low and intimate as he laid his free hand on Cisco’s back again. “Why have them if you’re not going to use them?”

“Fair enough, I guess,” Cisco said, taking a tiny sip from his own glass. “Wow, this is much nicer champagne than I’m used to. I should probably stop before I get very drunk.”

“Probably,” Leo agreed, taking Cisco’s glass back and setting them both on another tray. “Let’s dance.”

“I--uh, okay,” Cisco stammered as Leo captured his hand and led him to the dance floor. “I guess we can do that. I’m going to step on your toes a lot, though.”

Leo stopped and pulled Cisco closer, keeping their hands joined and slipping his free hand back to the small of Cisco’s back. “Relax. Just let me lead.”

Much to Cisco’s surprise, he did, lifting his free hand to Leo’s shoulder and then they were moving smoothly across the floor, swaying together like they’d done it a thousand times. 

“Oh,” Cisco said, a little distracted as Leo’s hands, one wrapped firmly around Cisco’s, the other on Cisco’s back, guided him deftly around the floor. “So  _ that’s _ how it’s supposed to work.”

Leo’s mouth curled up at the corner again. “A smart guy like you couldn’t figure out how two guys could dance together?”

“No, not that,” Cisco said, doing his best to ignore the bloom of warmth in the pit of his stomach when Leo said he was smart. “My mom tried to make me take ballroom dancing classes when I was a teenager; she thought maybe I could be a dance prodigy like Dante was with his music.”

“Ah, so you already know the steps,” Leo said, and was it Cisco’s imagination, or were their bodies a tiny bit closer together? 

“Yeah, but I was shit at leading,” Cisco admitted. “I always ended up stepping on my partner’s toes. How come you’re so good at this?”

“You didn’t think I could dance?” Leo drawled, his smirk deepening. “Why, Cisco, I’m hurt.”

Cisco rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man. Don’t tell me, it’s fine.”

They danced in silence for a few moments, and it was so comfortable that Cisco was surprised when Leo spoke again, his voice quieter than before. “One day Lisa came home from school and I could tell she was upset, but she wouldn’t say why. Turns out they were having a father-daughter dance, and she was the only girl in her class who didn’t have anyone to take her.”

“So you took her,” Cisco finished. “Is that why you knew to threaten Dante when you wanted me to rebuild your cold gun? Because you’d do anything for your sister?”

Leo shrugged, the muscle of his shoulder rippling under Cisco’s hand. “I may not be smart, but even I can tell what your family means to you.”

“Hey,” Cisco protested. “You taught yourself how the cold gun works just by taking it apart and putting it back together. That’s not something a stupid person could do.”

Leo looked out across the ballroom, but Cisco could still see the faint flush on his cheekbones and the tiny smile on his lips. “There’s our target,” he said under his breath.

“What do you need me to do?” Cisco asked, feeling the low-grade flutter that had ridden in his stomach ever since Leo stepped into his apartment morph into an entire flock of butterflies.

Leo looked down at him, his eyes shining in the way that usually terrified Cisco, because he didn’t know what Captain Cold was going to do next, or how they were going to stop it. But this time, Captain Cold was on his side, and Cisco let himself give in to the little thrill that he felt. 

“Follow my lead?” Leo asked.

Cisco nodded slowly. “You got it.”

They moved across the dance floor with more purpose, then. Not faster; Leo kept them moving with the pace of the music, his attention to all appearances completely on Cisco, who kept having to remind himself that he was not on an actual date, that once the evening was over, Leo would go back to being Snart or Captain Cold. 

As much as he was trying to pay attention to what they were doing, to be ready, Cisco was completely unprepared when he bumped into someone behind him. 

“Oh, shit,” he said under his breath, slipping his hand free from Leo’s grip and turning to apologize. “I am so, so sorry, ma’am,” he said to the annoyed-looking woman behind him, bending down to pick up her little purse thing from the floor where she’d dropped it when he bumped her. 

“It’s my fault, really,” Leo said, taking the purse from Cisco and passing it back to the woman. “I should’ve been watching where we were going, but I was too busy looking at my boyfriend.” His hand landed back on Cisco’s lower back, in the space that was beginning to feel a little cold and lonely without it.

The woman’s glare softened. “I suppose there’s no harm done,” she said, opening the tiny purse to check its contents before snapping it closed again. “You two haven’t been together long, have you?”

Cisco felt his face heat, but Leo just chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows the signs,” she said, tossing long red curls back over her shoulder, her mouth curving into an indulgent smile. “You’re both still in that stage where you don’t take anything for granted, where you notice every touch, every look. Enjoy it.”

“We will,” Leo assured her, his hand pressing just a little more against Cisco’s back. “Oh, no, you’ve got a little...here, may I?” His hand reached out and brushed over her bare shoulder, coming away with what looked like a leaf from the small ornamental tree behind her, even though Cisco would have sworn it wasn’t there before. 

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at Leo, and Cisco had to fight down a completely ridiculous surge of jealousy. “I’d hate to have discovered I was still wearing that at the end of the evening.”

A petite brunette slid into the redhead’s personal space, handing her a flute of champagne. “Letting strange men feel you up again, darling?” 

“Ah, but I’m going home with you, love,” she said, smiling fondly at her companion. “These gentlemen were just helping me be sure that I don’t take my nature-goddess look too far.”

“And we should be going,” Leo said smoothly, much to Cisco’s silent relief. “Please accept my apologies again.”

The woman waved them off. “No harm done. Enjoy your evening.”

Cisco waited until they were standing in front of one of the paintings on the wall, their backs to the women, before asking “What was that?” under his breath.

Leo used the hand he still had on Cisco’s back to pull him closer until he could lean down and murmur in Cisco’s ear. “The woman you bumped into is Katya Silvestrova, a member of a Russian crime family. She’s here to set up operations in Central City, and we got word that she’s been recruiting metahumans, the ones that were smart enough to fly under the radar and not get taken out.”

“Okay,” Cisco said slowly, trying to get his mind to focus on something besides the way that he was tucked into Leo’s side, the low, intimate tone of Leo’s voice in his ear. “You said we were gathering information, right? What information did we get, other than that she has a girlfriend, wife, whatever?”

“Not much,” Leo admitted. “But the tracker I planted on her should lead Barry right to their base of operations.”

Cisco felt something inside him relax at the knowledge that Leo had only touched the woman to plant the tracker, but he shoved the implications of that back into the part of his brain that he tried not to think about or pay attention to. “So how much longer do you think we have to stick around to be convincing?”

“Well, that depends,” Leo said slowly, turning and nudging Cisco around until they were facing each other, only inches of space between them.

Cisco swallowed, unable to look away from the dark intensity in Leo’s eyes. “On what?” he managed, his voice barely audible.

Leo lifted one hand to Cisco’s face, the callouses on his hands rough against Cisco’s skin. “It depends,” he said softly, an odd note in his voice, “on if I do this.” 

He leaned in, giving Cisco plenty of time to pull away, and Cisco found himself rising up on his toes to meet him halfway. 

The kiss started gently, just a press and brush of mouth against mouth, and Cisco had time to sincerely question just what the fuck he was actually doing even as he was cataloging each distinct sensation. Then Leo’s hand slid around to cup the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, and he changed the angle, coaxing Cisco’s lips apart and licking inside. Leo kissed with the same single-minded intensity that he did everything else, like Cisco was the only thing that was real to him, like he wanted to devour him, body and soul. His hand tightened in Cisco’s hair, tugging lightly, and Cisco moaned helplessly into the kiss, then again as Leo’s other arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him those last few inches until they were pressed together from chest to knee.

Leo finally lifted his head, and all Cisco could do was gasp for breath and stare, because this, finally, was Leo. Not Snart with the defensiveness that he wore like armor, not Captain Cold hiding behind his parka and goggles. Just Leo, lips parted, wet and red from the kiss, eyes softer and more vulnerable than Cisco had ever seen him. Leo like he might have been in another world, another life.

“Let’s get out of here,” Cisco said hoarsely.

Leo rewarded him with a real smile, bringing Cisco’s mental scorecard up to three for the evening, stepped back, and used the hand on Cisco’s back to steer him toward the door. “I thought you’d never ask.”

* * *

The silence between them while they waited for the limo wasn’t as awkward as Cisco would have expected (not that anything about this evening was going like he’d expected), but it wasn’t calm either. Something Cisco couldn’t bring himself to name vibrated between them, building silently. Leo’s hand rested low on his back, and Cisco told himself that he’d wrapped an answering arm around Leo’s waist to maintain the illusion of their relationship for anyone who might be watching (he was getting really good at ignoring the inner voice that snorted its disbelief).

When they finally slid into the back of the limo and Leo gave the driver his address, Cisco opened his mouth to ask one of the approximately seven million questions that had been building up on the back of his tongue for the entire evening, only to promptly have all of those thoughts knocked out of his head when Leo suddenly pulled him into his lap, his hands hard and possessive on Cisco’s hips.

“The driver isn’t the same as before,” Leo breathed into Cisco’s ear, so quietly that it took Cisco a moment to realize what he’d said. “He’s one of Silvestrova’s men.”

Leo’s teeth closed on Cisco’s earlobe and he shuddered helplessly. When the part of his brain that did the thinking managed to sputter back online, he buried his face in Leo’s neck. “Do you think she suspects?”

Leo shook his head minutely, the smooth-shaven skin of his cheek rubbing against Cisco’s. “Gotta make it look good, though, or she will.”

He tilted Cisco’s face up and kissed him, deep and wet and hungry, and every thought drained out of Cisco’s head, leaving only  _ yes  _ and  _ want _ and  _ more. _ Leo’s hands curved around Cisco’s ass, dragging him closer until they were plastered together, then tore their mouths apart to fist one hand in Cisco’s hair, tugging his head back and trailing a line of biting kisses down the arch of his neck.

“Oh, God,” Cisco moaned, arching into Leo, and then moaned again when he felt the hard line of Leo’s cock rubbing against his. “Oh, God, Leo, please.”

Leo growled against the skin just above Cisco’s collar, the sound vibrating across his skin. “Say it again,” he demanded, loosening Cisco’s tie with a few quick tugs and flicking open the top buttons of his shirt, closing his mouth over the spot where Cisco’s neck met his shoulder, sucking and biting with single-minded intensity.

Cisco briefly considered trying to hold out, but then Leo rolled his hips up, grinding against him, and he was lost. “Please, Leo,” he gasped again, and Leo rewarded him with another growl  and a hand in his hair again, tugging until Cisco moaned. 

“You like that,” Leo observed, his voice almost completely normal except for the fact that it was at least an octave lower than usual. “Did you know that you liked having your hair pulled?”

Cisco shook his head a tiny bit, as much range of motion as he had with Leo holding his hair, and even that much movement pulled enough to have him shuddering, sparks of sensation dancing over his skin. “Nobody ever--”

“Good,” Leo said, looking entirely too pleased with himself, and even through his daze Cisco realized that would never do; if he let Leo get the upper hand now, it couldn’t possibly lead anywhere good. 

With a supreme effort of will, he focused enough to unbutton Leo’s jacket and slide his hands up the other man’s chest, finding the loose ends of the bow tie. Leo returned his attention to Cisco’s neck, holding him in place with the hand in his hair and another on his ass, but Cisco held onto control by his fingernails, finally managing to undo Leo’s tie after a few false starts. He let the fabric hang down on each side as he attacked Leo’s shirt buttons, suddenly desperate for more skin, more contact, more Leo, unable to control the movement of his hips against Leo’s slow, almost lazy grind. It wasn’t enough to make him come, but it was so good it made his eyes want to roll back in his head--Leo’s long, hard cock rubbing against his, only a few layers of fabric separating them. 

“You like that?” Leo murmured, scraping his teeth over the sensitized skin of Cisco’s neck while he tugged on Cisco’s hair, chuckling darkly when Cisco shuddered. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you, Cisco? Let me hear you say it.”

“I like it. I fucking love it,” Cisco admitted, scratching blunt fingernails up through the stubble of hair on Leo’s scalp and smiling darkly when Leo was the one to shudder for a change. He took a deep breath and let his mouth run; for once, here was a situation where more talking was better, where saying what he was thinking would help. “Want me to tell you how good it feels? Lights me up like a Christmas tree when you pull my hair. Nobody ever did that before. Just you.”

Leo shuddered again, his eyes fluttering closed and his cock twitching so hard Cisco could feel it even through the layers of clothing between them.

“Oh, you like that?” Cisco asked, feeling his grin widen. “Like knowing you’re the first person to do this to me? Get me so wound up I’m about to come in my pants in the back of a fucking limo and I don’t even care if the driver hears?” 

Leo’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t you dare,” he ordered.

Cisco raised his eyebrows. “You have a better plan?”

Leo’s voice dropped to a low, silky purr that should’ve sounded menacing, but apparently Cisco was kinkier than he’d thought, because all it did was add to the tight ball of want in the pit of his stomach. “I have a much better plan. I’m going to take you home, strip you down, and spread you out on my bed. I’m going to open you up until you’re begging me to fuck you, and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t say anything but my name. And then, Cisco, you will be allowed to come.”

“Oh--” Cisco swallowed hard, his voice breaking, and did his best not to pass out as the tiny bit of blood left in his brain headed down to his already achingly hard cock. “Okay, yeah, that’s a better plan. Can I request an addition?”

“You can ask,” Leo drawled, smirking at him.

“I was just wondering if there was any room in your plan for me to suck your cock?” Cisco asked, looking at Leo from under his eyelashes. 

Leo made a noise in the back of his throat that Cisco decided he  _ needed _ to hear again, soon, but before he could respond, the limo rolled to a stop, and the driver opened his door and stepped out. They both froze as they were forcibly reminded of where they were.

Cisco sighed and reluctantly climbed off of Leo. “Walking inside like this is not gonna be fun.”

Leo used the hand still in his hair to tug him in for a quick, rough kiss. “Stop complaining, Cisco,” he murmured when he pulled away. “Or I’ll have to find something more productive for you to do with your mouth.”

Cisco absolutely did not whimper as the driver opened the door.

* * *

“So,” Cisco said, once they were inside. Leo had tipped the driver and walked Cisco inside his condo, that proprietary hand back in what was rapidly becoming its expected spot on Cisco’s back even after the front door closed behind them. “How much of that was for the driver’s benefit? I mean, they might have people watching, so I should probably stay here for awhile, but--”

Leo pushed him up against the wall of the entryway, pinning him there with his entire body, and effectively shut Cisco up by the simple expedient of licking inside his mouth like he was starving for a taste. Cisco felt like he was melting into the wall, the hard, muscular length of Leo’s body the only thing keeping him upright.

“What do you want, Cisco?” Leo asked when he lifted his head. “Do you want me to tell you I was pretending? That it was all for a cover?”

Cisco rolled his hips forward, letting his head fall back against the wall and savoring the friction of Leo’s cock against his. “Pretty sure we’d both be lying if we said that.”

“Probably,” Leo agreed, his voice dangerously patient, “but that doesn’t answer my question, Cisco. What do you want?”

Cisco licked his lips just to watch Leo’s eyes follow the movement. “I already told you what I want.”

Leo made that noise again, low in the back of his throat, and pushed himself off the wall, pulling Cisco down the hall behind him and through an open doorway into a room with, yep, that was a bed. Cisco was standing in Captain Cold’s bedroom; what the fuck even was his life? Although, judging by the look on Leo’s face, he wasn’t going to be standing for long.

“I’m torn,” Leo said, his voice low and even, belying the heat in his eyes. “On the one hand, I want you naked and begging for me.”

Cisco swallowed. “And on the other hand?”

“And on the other hand,” Leo mused, stroking the backs of his fingers over the bare skin of Cisco’s throat and smiling slightly as he shivered, “ever since you answered the door in this tux, I’ve been imagining what you’d look like on your knees.”

“No reason we can’t do both,” Cisco said, dropping to his knees in front of Leo. “I should warn you, though, it’s been a little while since I’ve done this.”

Leo cupped the side of his face, stroking his thumb across Cisco’s lower lip, pressing his mouth slightly open. “Enough talking,” he murmured, drawing in a sharp breath as Cisco sucked his thumb inside, curling his tongue around it. “I have something better for you to do with your mouth.”

Cisco reached up with hands that he was surprised to see were rock-steady and unbuttoned Leo’s slacks, pulling the zipper down. “Boxers,” he said, smiling up at Leo and tugging the waistband down over the hard, leaking length of Leo’s cock. “Caitlin owes me twenty dollars.”

Leo looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or appalled. “You bet on my underwear?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Cisco answered distractedly, because Leo’s cock was  _ right there _ , thick and flushed, and his mouth was watering. “Barry wouldn’t bet, and Joe said something about ‘professionalism’ and walked out of the room. But Caitlin said that with the way you planned shit out, there was no way you’d wear something as ‘loosey-goosey’ as boxers.”

Leo huffed out a laugh, amusement winning out (reluctantly, it looked like). “Iris didn’t bet?”

Cisco grinned wickedly up at him. “She bet on commando.”

“Well,” Leo drawled, threading his fingers through Cisco’s hair, “any other day she’d have a decent chance of being right.”

“Oh, God,” Cisco groaned. “You can’t  _ say _ shit like that.”

Leo grinned wolfishly and tugged Cisco’s hair until he leaned in, his mouth only a breath away from the head of Leo’s cock. “Maybe you should give me something else to think about, then.”

Cisco wrapped his hand around the base of Leo’s cock, darting his tongue out to taste the drop of precome beading at the head before closing his mouth over it. Leo’s fingers tightened infinitesimally in his hair, and Cisco moaned involuntarily, drawing an answering moan from Leo.

Cisco looked up the line of Leo’s body to his face, suppressing a shiver at the reminder that they were both still almost fully clothed. He had a brief mental image of the way they must look (disheveled evening clothes, Leo’s hands in his hair, Cisco on his knees) and tucked that away for consideration on future lonely nights. But right now all he could think about was the way Leo’s eyes seemed to almost burn in his face, dark and intent and fixed on Cisco like he’d never seen anything hotter in his life (which, okay, no false modesty, but Cisco has seen the kind of girls that throw themselves at Captain Cold  _ or _ Leonard Snart, and he is not even close to being in that league). No one, guy or girl, had ever looked at Cisco like that, not even Lisa when she was trying to kidnap him, and it gave him enough of a surge of confidence to take Leo deeper, sliding down until the head of Leo’s cock bumped the back of his throat.

Leo sucked in a breath. “Do you even have a gag reflex?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

Cisco pulled off, slowly, sitting back on his heels to answer. “Well, between trying to teach myself to be a fire-eater and sword-swallower in high school and a couple of unfortunate lollipop incidents, not really.”

Leo’s cock jerked in Cisco’s fist and his hands clenched in Cisco’s hair, making him whimper. “Up,” he ordered, relaxing his grip and tugging lightly until Cisco stood. “I have a very specific plan for tonight, and it doesn’t involve coming down your throat--” he smiled wickedly when Cisco pouted at him “--not right now, anyway.”

Cisco couldn’t help pouting again when Leo’s hands left his hair and slid down his neck, lingering over his skin before smoothing down his shirt front to where his jacket was still buttoned and flicking it open, pushing it down his shoulders until it fell on the floor. Cisco lifted his hands to start unbuttoning his shirt, but Leo batted his hands away and began the task himself. 

“Let me,” he ordered, his eyes fixed intently on the steadily widening strip of skin between the two edges of Cisco’s shirt. 

Cisco let his hands fall to his sides, battling down the sudden surge of awkwardness and self-consciousness. He could feel the nervous babble bubbling up his throat, anything to try to distract himself from the fact that seeing his unimpressive naked body had been enough to derail more than one encounter. Apparently Leo could sense it as well, because he started talking before the words could escape Cisco’s mouth.

“I’ve been thinking about this all evening,” he said softly, tugging the tails of Cisco’s shirt loose from his slacks. “Thought about you on your knees for me--” Warm fingertips brushed Cisco’s wrists as the silver cufflinks that had been delivered with the tux were undone and set on top of the bedside table. “--thought about stripping you out of your tux right there--” Leo’s palms slid up Cisco’s bared chest, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and following it down his arms until it landed on top of the jacket. “--gave serious consideration to bending you over your couch and fucking your brains out.”

“You didn’t show it,” Cisco managed to say, his voice breathless as Leo’s fingers skimmed down his stomach to rest lightly on the waistband of his slacks. 

Leo shrugged one shoulder. “I learned early in life that letting people know what I want doesn’t get me anywhere.” He undid the button and pulled the zipper carefully down, the backs of his fingers grazing over Cisco’s cock where it pressed against the fabric before letting the slacks slide down Cisco’s legs to pool around his feet. 

Cisco felt himself flushing when Leo arched an eyebrow at him. “It was laundry day?”

Leo shook his head slowly, his hands skimming across Cisco’s hip before wrapping firmly around his cock. “You were holding out on me, Cisco,” he said, stroking his hand slowly up and down once. “If I’d known about this, I would’ve pulled you into the bathroom at the gallery and jerked you off right there.”

“Yeah, you might have noticed I’m kind of loud,” Cisco said, half-apologetically, half trying not to come on the spot at the idea of Leo pinning him against a wall, those long, dexterous fingers stroking over his cock until he came apart. “I don’t think that would’ve worked.”

“It would have,” Leo said firmly, “because I would’ve stopped every time you made a noise. And if you really couldn’t help yourself, I would’ve found something else to occupy your mouth.”

Cisco whimpered a little at the thought. “Maybe next time?” he suggested hopefully.

He felt more than saw the way Leo went completely still. “Next time?” he asked, both eyebrows raised. “You mean, next time I need a pretend date to plant a tracker on a Russian mafia princess?”

“Or,” Cisco said, unable to stop the words from pouring out of his mouth even as he cringed internally, “we could just go on an actual date. If you wanted to. You know. Whatever.”

Leo stared at him unblinkingly for an endless moment. Cisco was just starting to think he’d broken some kind of unspoken rule of sidekick/reformed villain hookups when Leo surged forward, kissing him fiercely, possessively. Leo’s free hand fisted in Cisco’s hair, angling his head for Leo’s tongue to claim every inch of his mouth, and the hand on Cisco’s cock slid around to grip his ass, pulling them together until there wasn’t an inch of space between their bodies. Cisco moaned into the kiss, overwhelmed by sensations--the tingling sparks where Leo’s fingers tugged at his hair, the smoothness of Leo’s shirt against his chest, the incredible friction of Leo’s still-wet cock rubbing against his.

Leo moved forward without breaking the kiss, forcing Cisco backward until the backs of his legs hit the bed. It was several long, pleasurably torturous moments later before Leo lifted his head and demanded, “Bed. Now.”

Cisco was sliding back onto the bed before his brain caught up to what he was doing, the command apparently traveling directly to his muscles. “You’re a little overdressed,” he said, by way of asserting his independence, but he kept moving until he was on the pillows, because there was no point in being stupid about it.

Leo paused, one knee on the edge of the bed, and looked down at himself, taking in the unbuttoned jacket and shirt, dangling tie, and pants that were staying on his hips through sheer willpower in one comprehensive glance. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, stripping with ruthless efficiency, jacket and shirt tossed aside and pants slid to the floor within seconds and he was absolutely naked. “Better?”

Cisco had to swallow before he could get words to form. “I liked the other look, don’t get me wrong,” he said, his mouth still dry as Leo prowled up the bed toward him, muscles flexing, not stopping until he was on all fours above Cisco. “But this is good, too.”

“Good,” Leo murmured, leaning down to kiss him again. Cisco was vaguely aware of the sound of the bedside table drawer opening and shutting, and some small objects hitting the comforter, but he was preoccupied with the way Leo’s mouth was moving down his neck, licking and sucking at the opposite side of the one he’d been paying attention to in the limo.

“Are you giving me matching hickeys?” Cisco demanded breathlessly.

“Maybe,” Leo said, his voice vibrating against Cisco’s skin. “They won’t show when you’re wearing a dress shirt.”

Cisco snorted. “And I wear those so much in my normal life. You know damn good and well they’ll show in my t-shirts. You’re just marking your territory.”

Leo’s lips curved against his neck. “Maybe I am,” he said slowly, and Cisco only registered the clicking noise he’d heard when he felt Leo’s fingertip, slick with lube ghosting down his perineum, pressing lightly against his asshole. “Maybe I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

Cisco shivered and didn’t try very hard to pretend that it was all from the finger teasing him. “Am I?” he asked, because he was an idiot who couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Leo lifted his head, but his finger never stopped moving. “If you want to be,” he said, his face very still. “I don’t know why you would--”

Cisco surged up enough to kiss him, taking Leo’s face in his hands and relishing the plush texture of Leo’s short hair under his fingertips, the way the other man allowed him to control the kiss for a change. He broke the kiss with a gasp when the tip of Leo’s finger slipped past the first ring of muscle. “I can--ah--think of a couple of reasons,” he breathed, letting his head fall back on the pillow as Leo worked his finger in deeper. “But I--oh, shit--maybe we can continue this conversation another time?”

“I suppose,” Leo said, his voice elaborately casual, his eyes hot and hungry on Cisco’s face, and one corner of his mouth tipped upwards.

Cisco had time to realize that he would never be able to see Captain Cold’s smirk again without being reminded of this moment, and then Leo added another finger and he had to close his eyes and breathe through the intensity of the sensation, the implacable press of Leo’s fingers opening his body. 

“Breathe, Cisco,” Leo said, his free hand rubbing soothing circles on Cisco’s hip. “Relax, let me in.”

Cisco nodded, his eyes still closed, and made himself bear down, smiling a little at the surprised sound Leo made when both fingers slipped fully inside him. “I’m not gonna break,” he said. “I may not have done this before, but I know how it goes. Oh, shit, did I say that last part out loud?”

Leo’s fingers stilled. “Yeah, you did,” he said, his tone indecipherable, and Cisco worked up the courage to open his eyes. Leo was looking down at him with naked hunger, but he was holding himself completely, absolutely still. “Never?”

Cisco shrugged. “Long story. So, yeah, you’re gonna be the first person to fuck me, but hey, no pressure.”

Leo rolled his eyes, crooked his fingers, and Cisco nearly shot off the bed.

“Holy shit!” He clamped one hand around the base of his cock, because there was no way he was going to come just yet. “So that’s where my prostate is, huh?”

“Congratulations,” Leo said drily, and then he stroked his fingers over that spot again, and Cisco had to close his eyes and try to work calculus problems in his head to keep from coming on the spot. Leo leaned down and kissed him, catching Cisco’s lower lip between his teeth, then teasing his mouth open and licking inside at the same time he added a third finger, and any chance Cisco had of holding numbers higher than three in his head was long gone.

Cisco moaned into the kiss, tearing away to suck in gulps of air, his hips arching up of their own volition to meet the movements of Leo’s hand. “Oh, oh fuck,” he gasped, because it was too much and not enough; he was so full, stretched full of Leo’s fingers, but at the same time it wasn’t enough--not deep enough, not thick enough, not close enough. Leo was too far away, whole inches separating them, and that wasn’t going to work. “God, Leo, please,” he begged, completely unable to care. “Please, I’m ready, please…”

“Please, what?” Leo purred in his ear, twisting his hand to let his fingers graze Cisco’s prostate again. “What do you want, Cisco?”

“God, fuck me, please,” Cisco panted when he could string words together again. “I’m ready, Leo, please.”

Leo pulled his fingers out slowly, a long, teasing drag that had Cisco shuddering under him. “This will probably be easier for you if you turn over,” he said, tearing open the condom wrapper and rolling it on.

“Yeah, okay,” Cisco said, managing after a couple of attempts to get his shaky legs to work and turn over onto all fours. “Like this?”

Leo sucked in a long, rough breath and rubbed a hand gently over the curve of Cisco’s ass. “Just like that,” he murmured, and then Cisco felt a blunt pressure against his hole. 

Cisco dropped his forehead to the mattress and took a long breath, bearing down until he felt the head of Leo’s cock slip inside. They shuddered in unison, Leo’s hands flexing on Cisco’s hips as he pressed deeper with tiny, almost helpless thrusts. 

“Tell me if--don’t let me hurt you,” Leo ordered, his voice almost unrecognizable, and Cisco smiled into the mattress, because it was so typically Leo to disguise concern with a command.

“I’m not gonna break,” he said again, and then he had to stop talking, because Leo was moving again, working his way inside with short, controlled thrusts, and it was overwhelming, right up to the edge of pain but also so good, lighting up nerves that he didn’t think he’d ever felt before. 

Leo, quiet, controlled, Captain Cold, seemed to have lost all control of his mouth. “So good, Cisco,” he muttered, “God, so tight, you feel so fucking good, that’s it, Cisco--”

When Leo was finally as deep as he could go, his hips flush with Cisco’s ass, they both stayed still for long moments. Cisco focused on breathing in and out, letting his body relax around the intrusion. The tightening of Leo’s hands on his hips was the only warning he got before the other man began to move, pulling out a tiny bit and then pushing back in. Cisco couldn’t have stopped the moan that punched out of him if his life had depended on it, and Leo did it again, harder, but still agonizingly slow, just on the edge of what he needed.

“You like that?” Leo asked breathlessly.

“Fuck, yes,” Cisco babbled. “Fuck me harder, Leo, I can take it, need you, need you to fuck me--”

Leo growled, pulled almost completely out and drove back in, changing the angle just slightly so he was hitting Cisco’s prostate, and Cisco’s hands fisted in the covers as he muffled a scream against the pillow. Leo’s fingers dug into his hips and he did it again, snapping his hips and fucking Cisco with steady, measured thrusts, until Cisco couldn’t actually speak, just braced himself on folded arms and let whatever noises were inside flow out, lost in the massive, overwhelming need to come.

Then Leo’s hand wrapped in Cisco’s hair, pulling his head up. “Say my name,” he demanded.

“Leo,” Cisco gasped out. “Fuck, please, Leo, oh, God, please, Leo--”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Leo soothed, pausing a moment to urge Cisco up until his back was against Leo’s chest, his head falling back against Leo’s collarbone, one of Leo’s arms wrapped around his waist. 

“You want to come, Cisco?” he asked, his voice low in Cisco’s ear, and all Cisco could do was nod helplessly, his mouth open and gasping for breath. Leo wrapped his hand around Cisco’s cock and started to move again, each thrust rocking Cisco up into Leo’s fist. The dual sensations, fucking and being fucked, were overwhelming, and Cisco held onto control by his fingernails, no longer sure why, just knowing he wasn’t allowed to come yet.

“Come for me, Cisco,” Leo breathed in his ear, and Cisco was gone, vision whiting out with the force of his orgasm. He was dimly aware of Leo growling a long, low stream of curses in his ear, the arm around his waist tightening as Leo thrust deep one more time and came, shuddering.

They stayed like that for several long minutes. Cisco felt boneless, draped over Leo’s body, Leo’s warm, muscular chest rising and falling under him, Leo’s arm still wrapped firmly around his waist. The silence stretched between them, comfortable at first, but the longer it went, the more of Cisco’s brain came back online and the more things he remembered saying. He felt a flush rising on his cheeks, and it almost came as a relief when Leo shifted under him.

“Shit, I should move,” Cisco muttered, lifting himself up off Leo’s lap. Leo’s arm tightened around him at first, then fell slowly away (Cisco stomped firmly on the part of his brain that wanted to assign the adverb “reluctantly” to the motion). He winced a little as Leo’s softening cock slipped out of him, but a part of him was darkly satisfied by the idea that he would have the slight ache in his ass to remind him that this evening had really happened.

“I’ll be right back,” Leo said quietly, easing off the edge of the bed and walking toward a door that Cisco hadn’t noticed before (to be fair, he hadn’t noticed much beside the bed and Leo. Who said he had focus issues?). Cisco flopped onto his side and watched him go, mesmerized by the flex of muscles in Leo’s ass and legs as he moved. Cisco’s cock even made a valiant effort to show its interest before giving up, which was truly impressive, given how hard he’d come just a few minutes ago.

There was a brief sound of water running through the open door, then Leo was back, holding a wet washcloth loosely in one hand as he moved toward the bed.

Cisco shifted, wincing a little bit as he noticed the slightly sticky feel of dried lube on his inner thighs and drying semen on his knees.  “Yeah, I should probably clean up,” he said, reaching for the washcloth.

Leo hesitated by the side of the bed, the washcloth just out of Cisco’s reach. “Can I?”

“Y-yeah,” Cisco stuttered, feeling himself flush, but Leo didn’t seem to notice, crawling back onto the bed and cleaning him off gently but thoroughly, his free hand always touching Cisco’s stomach or hip or thigh, but Cisco tried not to read too much into that.

“Thanks,” he said, when Leo had finally finished and tossed the washcloth in the general direction of a clothes hamper.

Leo shrugged, lying down facing Cisco, and brushed his fingertips over one of the hickeys at the base of Cisco’s throat, then the other, his eyes following his fingers. “I take care of what’s mine.”

Cisco swallowed. “I think we might need to talk about this possessive thing you’ve got going on,” he said, deliberately trying for a lighter tone.

Leo lifted an eyebrow, finally meeting Cisco’s gaze. “Are you saying you don’t like it?”

“I’m saying…” Cisco paused for a second to gather his nerve. “I’m saying that it won’t work for me unless it goes both ways. If I’m yours, then you’re mine.”

Leo nodded slowly. “I can live with that. Anything else?”

Cisco could feel the smile spreading across his face, but he didn’t even try to stop it. “Oh, I’ve got a little list. Just ideas, you know. Thoughts I had. Might take some time to get through.”

Leo rolled him over and pinned him to the bed. “For you, Cisco,” he murmured, their lips inches apart, “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is. I hope all 16 people who ship these two enjoy it, and I hope now I can get to writing other things.
> 
> In case you like that sort of thing, the reference pics I used when writing this are [here](http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMjIxNzY3OTk5NV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNDkxOTU2MzE@._V1_SX640_SY720_.jpg), [here](http://i2.listal.com/image/1876468/936full-wentworth-miller.jpg), and here.


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